Hey, everyone. I didn't wait two years to post a new chapter! In all seriousness, I'm in summer school which is taking priority of my free time giving me little time to write. (The goal is to have my official teaching license by the end of next spring semester.) However I did get some time this week, so chapter three of this story is ready.

Tangled and the songs "Healing Incantation" and "Mother Knows Best" belongs to Disney.

The story is based on Tangled, but with some differences to better fit this plot and the characters.

Thank you to durrendurrendol1992, mdizzle, and Whinkx for your reviews on chapter two.

Queen Priscilla waited at the bottom of the tower with a basket over her right arm. She wore a fine silk, maroon dress, and her auburn hair with streaks of gray hung freely down. Only when she visited her daughter was her hair not pinned up and adorned with costly jewels.

Pacifica attached her yards of hair to a pulley next to the window. She stood on the step next to the ledge and with the help of the pulley lowered her rope-like hair down the side of the tower where her mother waited. Priscilla wrapped her arms and legs around the hair then cued her daughter to pull. Pacifica backed herself against the wall and grunted as she pulled both the heavy hair and the added one hundred twenty pounds of her mother's body.

At long last the queen reached the ledge where Pacifica helped her inside. Priscilla removed her cloak and handed it to the girl to store on the hook by the other side of the window. Priscilla set the basket on the wooden table. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall and frowned at the age lines surrounding her mouth. Slender fingers graced the lines that would vanish within the next few minutes. Pacifica cleared her throat to catch her mother's attention.

Pacifica's smile fell when she noticed the wrinkle in her mother's nose accompanied by the scowl. The queen looked over her daughter's dress then fixated on a tiny spot at the bottom of the skirt.

"Honestly, Pacifica, first you wore that dress the last time I came to visit," Priscilla scolded.

Pacifica looked up at the ceiling as she recalled when her mother came three days ago. Had she selected the same dress, the one she considered the fanciest and certain her mother would agree on that day as well. Her memory failed her, but the frown on the other woman's face counted as the only evidence against her.

"But worse, you have a soup stain," Priscilla continued. "That's not fit attire for a princess, let alone in the company of a queen." She pointed to the wardrobe and demanded, "Go change."

Pacifica hurried towards the closet that contained her numerous dresses. Priscilla grumbled about this little nuisance wasting her time. Pacifica threw open the closet door and quickly scanned the options to choose something suitable enough that wouldn't enrage her mother to fling open the door and pick something herself, risking her seeing the gown in the back.

Pacifica selected another lavender dress and pulled it off the hanger causing the item to fall to the floor. With the dress around her arm Pacifica picked up the hanger and placed it on the railing and swiftly shut the door with her foot before her mother felt the urge to assist her.

The dress, mostly lavender, with the under layer of the skirt being a darker purple. Gold embroidery decorated the edges of the outer skirt, and the same color ribbon laced up the bodice. The under sleeves were fitted pink and the over sleeves, puffed in lavender with vertical slashes displaying the pink beneath. A layer of white lace lined the bottom.

The princess slipped into the dress, the button at the top open, so as not to trap her hair inside. The queen stepped up behind her and fastened the button. She turned Pacifica to face her, glanced over the dress, then commented it would do.

"When Rosie arrives with the cake, I'll order her to send this to the wash," Priscilla announced.

"I can wash it myself," Pacifica stated.

"Clearly you couldn't last time," Priscilla retorted.

Pacifica almost argued she didn't wash it last time and merely rehung it in the closet, but that would lead to an even worse scolding. Besides, she wanted her mother to be in her best mood when she brought up the subject of the ball.

"I'll tell them I plan to wear it to the ball tomorrow night," Priscilla stated.

"Surely, you're not," Pacifica gasped.

"Of course not," Priscilla snapped. "I am a queen, I'm to be dressed in the finest gowns. I'll simply change my mind later."

"Mother, don't forget I made that dress," Pacifica muttered.

"Now I let you dabble in your hobby, but you're not nearly skilled enough to dress royalty."

Pacifica lowered her head, it wouldn't be a visit from her mother if at least one of her talents weren't insulted. She considered arguing that she herself was royalty, but it would merely further irritate her mother.

"Besides, you're a princess, Pacifica, you are not to engage in menial work, that's for the servants," Priscilla explained. "It's bad enough you clean your own room, an idea I'm sure that lazy Rosie put in your head."

"No, it was my idea," Pacifica defended.

"Well, this is the last day," Priscilla ordered. "You are a princess and need to concern yourself with your own studies."

Pacifica perked up. "You mean..." she began. "For when I take over as queen."

"Queen?" Priscilla repeated. She shook her head. "Those books put stupid ideas in your head. You are not ready to be queen, I don't think you possess the skills."

"But when you-" Pacifica began.

Priscilla silenced her, "No more talk on this." She took a glimpse at her reflection in the mirror and winced. "That Rosie is taking her sweet time. Let us begin with the healing while we wait."

Priscilla sat down in the plush chair while Pacifica gathered the silver hairbrush and a cushioned ottoman for her to sit on. Priscilla leaned forward and took hold of Pacifica's silky hair. She gently stroked the tresses, Pacifica shut her eyes and sang:

Flower, gleam and glow

Let your power shine.

Pacifica's hair glowed a golden hue much to Priscilla's delight.

Make the clock reverse

Bring back what once was mine.

The golden light touched Priscilla's hands and she felt the power coursing through her body. The brush sat still and the fatigue and age vanished from her body. All gray hairs resumed their natural auburn shade. The age lines surrounding her lips sunk into her skin, giving her that same youthful image from twenty years passed.

A call from the bottom of the tower caught the attention of both women. Pacifica skipped over to the window to see the maid's cheerful face. She waved at the plump woman then lowered her hair for Rosie to make her ascension into the tower.

"There was a bit of a hold up," Rosie explained with a hearty laugh and the hefty basket on her hip. "The cook is freaking out over all the preparations for tomorrow night."

Priscilla rolled her eyes. The head cook should be aware of all that was needed for the grand ball they threw annually, yet every year his anxiety exploded when met with all the tasks. Half the cooks threatened to quit the day before the ball.

Rosie sat the basket on the table and opened the flaps with the princess looking in. Her plump hands reached in then pulled out the cake pan with a beautiful two layer cake decorated in white and lavender frosting. Pacifica's eyes followed the plate as it was placed delicately on the table.

She was then instructed to set the table for their lunch. Rosie opened up the first basket to reveal the prepared soup and sandwiches inside. Despite Pacifica wanting to sink her teeth into the cake, she knew her mother would forbid dessert before the proper meal.

"Your majesty, all the servants are excited for tomorrow, with the masquerade theme," Rosie said as she placed the sandwiches on the plates.

"Masquerade?" asked Pacifica.

"Your father's idea, and the nobility is pleased," the queen responded. "Thank you, Rosie, that will do," she dismissed the maid.

Rosie bowed to the queen then said a sweet farewell to the princess. Pacifica set her hair upon the hook and lowered the older woman safely to the ground.

Priscilla sat in the plush chair while Pacifica made her way to the smaller one, nearly tripping over her own hair.

Her mother grimaced at her lack of grace, an uncommon sight for her daughter who was to practice walking and dancing daily. Pacifica sat down and folded her hands on the table, her heart raced.

"So, Mom, speaking of the ball tomorrow night," Pacifica began.

"Don't worry about it, the cook's mind will level out," Priscilla said with a wave of her hand, not looking at her daughter. "He always does. And if not, there's plenty more to take his place." She blew the steam off her spoon then swallowed the celery soup.

"That's not..." Pacifica said and pulled at the golden hairs. "Tomorrow I will be eighteen, the legal age of our kingdom."

Priscilla looked up, her brown eyes glued to Pacifica's blue ones.

"I was thinking, since I'll be an official adult, I can attend my own party," Pacifica said with a huge smile.

Priscilla swallowed the soup then placed the spoon on the napkin beside her bowl.

"You want to go outside?" Priscilla asked. "Leave the tower?"

"Just for tomorrow night," Pacifica pleaded.

Priscilla shook her head. "After that woman tried to abduct you years ago?"

"That's when I was a child, I'm older now," Pacifica argued. "Eventually I will have to return to the kingdom. This is the perfect time to get to know my subjects."

Priscilla rose to her feet. "No, it's too dangerous. I won't have it."

"It's a masquerade, you said so yourself, no one will even notice me," Pacifica pleaded and jumped to her feet. She took hold of her mother's wrist. "It's just one night, and it's my birthday."

"Pacifica, that is enough!" Priscilla yelled and yanked her hand out of her daughter's firm grasp. She clenched her fist and lowered her arm as the urge to slap the girl dissipated.

The queen took a deep breath and with a smile patted her daughter on the head. "Pacifica, please listen to me. Do you know why you stay up in this tower?"

"Yes, but," Pacifica tried.

"To keep you safe and sound dear," Priscilla crooned and placed a hand on either side of the girl's face.

She released her hold on Pacifica's face and gracefully walked towards the window. Her fingers touched the stone arch that allowed for Pacifica's sole gaze into the outside world, although her view beyond the palace grounds were obstructed by the gates.

Priscilla continued to sing more to herself:

Guess I always knew this day was coming.

Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest.

Pacifica hurried over to her mother's side at the sound of those words. Priscilla smiled at her daughter and poked her on the nose.

Soon, but not yet.

Trust me, pet.

Mother knows best.

Priscilla wrapped her arms around Pacifica's slim frame. She nuzzled her cheek against her daughter's neck.

Mother knows best, listen to your mother.

It's a scary world out there.

Mother knows best, one way or another

Something will go wrong I swear.

"But it doesn't have to," Pacifica argued. "I've watched these balls every year, the palace is heavily guarded. Rosie's told me you even have guards disguised as guests."

"She should keep her mouth shut and do her job instead of filling your head with these tales," hissed Priscilla.

"Other than Rosie and my tutor, I don't have anyone else to talk to," the princess reminded her mother.

"And the fewer who know of your whereabouts the better," the queen retorted. "There are so many out there who have heard of your magnificent gift." Priscilla took a handful of the golden locks and rubbed her face over them, inhaling the scent of lavender.

"I can't hide away forever," Pacifica groaned.

"And you won't," Priscilla stated. She put her hand under her daughter's chin. "As soon as your father and I find a way to protect you from all the dangers that seek to steal you and your hair away you can rejoin us in the palace."

"You've been saying that for years," Pacifica replied and stepped away. "I'm growing restless, I can't spend another night watching everyone else celebrate me and not get to participate. It's torture."

"You want to discuss torture?" Priscilla spat. She forced Pacifica against the wall. "Have those ruffians kidnap you and chain you to the wall. They slowly cut into your skin and bleed you out to keep you weak, but still alive so your hair will perform its magic." Priscilla curled her index finger around a lock of gold. "You're too valuable. Too valuable to me."

Priscilla held her hands against her heart. "I can't think of this horrible scenario anymore. Please no more, you'll just upset me."

She pulled Pacifica into a close embrace.

Mother's right here, Mother will protect you.

Darling here's what I suggest.

Pacifica stared up into her mother's eyes to see them on the verge of tears.

Skip the drama.

Stay with Mama.

Mother knows best.

"Mom, I...I didn't mean to upset you," Pacifica said looking down at her feet.

"I know you didn't," Priscilla said. "You're too naive to understand how the real world works. We only want you to be safe."

All I have is one request.

Pacifica stared wide-eyed to hear her mother's words.

The smile vanished from the queen's face. With stern eyes she demanded, "Don't ever ask to leave this tower again."

The tone slipped into Pacifica's ears and forced her body to tremble. It felt as if an imaginary set of chains cuffed to her feet, keeping her imprisoned in the only place that had been her room for the past five years.

"Yes, Mother," Pacifica softly complied.

"Your father and I couldn't cope if anything happened to you," the queen said as she ran her fingers through her daughter's hair. She stepped backwards, the long tresses still tangled around her fingers. She released her hold and the strands fell back down against the girl's lithe frame.

Priscilla reached into her pocket to check the watch and groaned at the hour. She excused herself from her daughter, who set her hair in place for her mother's departure. With the basket draped over her elbow Priscilla cascaded down the hair rope. Her dainty feet hit the bottom of the tower and with a quick wave of farewell, gracefully headed back towards the palace.

Pacifica lowered herself to her knees and leaned her cheek against her folded arms. She sighed as she watched her mother walk back towards the grand building that had once been her home before the first public discovery of her ability which trapped her in the lonely tower.

Her parents spared no expense to ensure her comfort in the tower. There were no drafts and she was provided with the best linens and food, permitted to take on any hobby she desired. However, aside from her mother's daily visits and Rosie's catering to her, as well as the tutor's twice weekly sessions, she had no one to call company. The latter of the two were only there on business and not given much opportunity for conversation outside the current tasks.

Tomorrow night she'd be forced to watch as the nobility from the kingdom, and those nearby flocked to the palace in hopes of catching a glimpse of the missing princess. The king and queen would put on the facade of mourning parents while their daughter sat soundly just outside the palace grounds. Often Pacifica considered running away, if the task could be achieved without being caught, but the threat of those lurking around in search of her magic hair kept her prisoner.

The princess walked over to the wardrobe and threw open the door. She pushed past the garments up front and grasped two handfuls of the skirt of the one in the back. Her fingers gripped at the satin fabric while the notion of ripping it to shreds coursed through her mind. With a silent sob she released her hold on the dress and watched the hem fall back against the floor of the wardrobe.

At the very least she could dress herself in the gown as she spectated from her window.